My husband had been on location shooting a new project for three months. I hadn’t received a single video call from him; he just kept texting that it was a "closed set." My heart ached for him. I bit the bullet, bought a plane ticket, and flew halfway across the country to visit him on set. When I got near the filming location, I tried to grab a coffee from Starbucks to bring him, only to be told that someone had bought out the entire store's inventory for the day. I was just wondering which A-list celebrity was throwing their weight around when a heavily made-up woman bumped hard into me. "Are you blind?! Do you have any idea how much this Birkin costs? You couldn't afford to replace it in a million years! My sugar daddy bought this for me with his black Amex!" I glanced down. The logo on the bag was literally printed crooked. It was a glaringly obvious, cheap knockoff. Bought with a black Amex? Yeah, right. My phone buzzed in my pocket. My husband, Liam, finally replied to my text. "Babe, the set is on total lockdown. The director is a tyrant, he won't even let a fly in. You absolutely cannot come visit!" As I was typing a reply asking what was going on, I heard the woman next to me giggle coquettishly into her phone. "My sugar daddy is worth billions. I just batted my eyelashes, and he offered to buy the whole building to apologize to me. Get this—I told him I missed him, and he literally told his wife he was on a closed set for three months." That excuse sounded way too familiar. My thumbs froze over my keyboard. Wait a minute. My husband was a struggling extra making two hundred bucks a day doing those trashy, micro-budget soap operas for TikTok. He played a billionaire CEO for two days, and now he actually thinks he's a billionaire? He even found himself a fake mistress to play the part? ... "What are you staring at? Jealous?" The woman’s shrill voice violently yanked me out of my absurd thoughts. She rolled her eyes and dramatically stroked the crooked logo of her fake "Birkin" with her cherry-red acrylic nails. "Makes sense. A broke, pathetic woman dressed in thrift store rags like you probably couldn't even afford the hardware on this bag." I ignored her insult. My gaze bypassed the fake bag and landed dead on the wrist she had raised. Around it was a breathtaking, flawless jade bangle. It was the heirloom my late mother-in-law had personally placed in my hands before she passed away. Before Liam left for this shoot, he had begged me with red, teary eyes to let him borrow the bangle. He claimed a crucial scene required a highly valuable prop as collateral, and that lending it to the production was the only way he secured the lead role. And now, that "crucial prop" was dangling from the wrist of this woman bragging about her sugar daddy. I clenched my fists tight, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Excuse me, miss. That bangle on your wrist... it's quite unique." The woman tilted her chin up arrogantly. "At least you have some taste!" "This is a token of love from my sugar daddy." She intentionally waved her wrist right in my face. "I heard it's a family heirloom. Priceless." "He told me that only the true matriarch of the Sterling family is worthy of wearing it." The Sterling family? I let out a cold laugh in my head. The micro-short Liam was currently filming did indeed feature a male lead with the last name Sterling. It was called something ridiculous like The Billionaire CEO's Runaway Bride. Two hundred dollars a day. Was he actually living out his script in real life? I put on a mask of awe and looked at her. "A sugar daddy that generous must spoil you rotten, right?" "Of course he does!" The woman covered her mouth and giggled. "Mr. Sterling caters to my every whim." "Yesterday, I casually mentioned the catered lunch on set was disgusting. He immediately waved his hand and ordered takeout from every five-star hotel in a ten-mile radius." "Today, I wanted Starbucks, so he bought out all the coffee in the entire district." She looked me up and down, her eyes dripping with undisguised contempt. "So, don't blame me if you can't get your coffee." "Blame yourself for not finding a better husband." Right at that moment, the phone in my pocket vibrated. It was a text from Liam. [Babe, the director lost his mind today. He's been screaming for ten hours straight.] [I haven't even had a sip of water. I'm literally eating stale bread.] [You seriously cannot come visit. The director said anyone whose family shows up is fired on the spot!] [Babe, I miss you so much. Once I suffer through these three months and get my paycheck, I'm going to buy you some nice new clothes.] I looked at the pathetic lies on my screen, then looked back at the woman bragging about her "five-star hotel takeout." A violent wave of nausea hit my stomach. Ten years. I stuck by Liam when we moved from a friend's basement to a leaky, moldy studio apartment. To support his dream of becoming an actor, I worked three jobs a day. I wouldn't even spend six dollars on a latte for myself. And he took my blood, sweat, and tears—and my dead mother-in-law's heirloom—to play pretend billionaire for another woman. "If your sugar daddy treats you so well, why isn't he here buying your coffee with you?" I looked up, a mocking half-smile on my face. The woman's expression faltered for a second before she haughtily puffed out her chest. "Mr. Sterling is a very busy man! He handles billion-dollar deals by the minute. You think he has time to run errands?" "He's currently in his luxury hotel penthouse, running an international video conference!" "Although..." Her eyes darted around, and she intentionally leaned in close, lowering her voice. "His pathetic, ugly wife is probably sitting at home right now, counting his pocket change for him." "She doesn't even know her husband bought out an entire building just for me." "It's honestly sad. And hilarious." I gripped my phone tight. "Is that right?" I asked softly, "That wife... she really does sound pitiful." Thinking I agreed with her, the woman became even more smug. "Isn't she?!" "Mr. Sterling told me himself. That woman is old, tacky, and her skin feels like sandpaper." "If it weren't for the fact that she slummed it with him back when he was broke, he would have kicked her to the curb years ago." "Now, he basically just keeps her around as an unpaid maid." Every single word felt like a dull, rusted knife slowly, brutally carving into my chest. I wasn't bleeding, but the pain was suffocating. This was the man I had loved for ten years. "Ugh, I'm wasting my breath on you." The woman glanced at the fake, rhinestone-encrusted Rolex on her wrist. "If Mr. Sterling finishes his meeting and can't find me, he's going to worry." She swayed her hips and turned to leave in her stilettos. "Wait." I called out to her. The woman turned back impatiently. "What now? Are you going to ask me to pay for your cheap clothes?" I shook my head, flashing a smile entirely devoid of warmth. "No, I just wanted to give you a friendly heads-up." "Your bag... you can get it on Amazon with a coupon for forty-nine bucks. Free Prime shipping." "Your billionaire sugar daddy is buying you knockoffs?" The woman's face instantly turned ash gray. "What the hell are you talking about?! What does a broke bitch like you know about luxury brands?!" She stomped her foot in furious humiliation, turned, and practically sprinted into the lobby of the high-end hotel next door. I watched her walk away. My phone buzzed again. Liam: [Babe, why aren't you replying? Are you mad at me?] I stared at the screen for a long time before slowly typing out a reply. [No, honey. I know you're working so hard.] After hitting send, I looked up at the glittering, opulent entrance of the luxury hotel. "Liam. Since you love acting so much." "If I don't give you some extra screentime, it would be a total waste of your incredible talent." I followed that woman into the hotel lobby. I walked straight up to the concierge and pulled out a photocopy of Liam's ID. "Hi, I'm Liam's wife. I'm here to drop off his stomach medication." The concierge checked the registry and smiled warmly, handing me a keycard. "Mr. Sterling is in the Presidential Suite on the top floor. Go right ahead, Mrs. Sterling." The Presidential Suite. At least a few thousand dollars a night. While Liam was crying poor to me on text last night, claiming he found half a cockroach in his set-catered meal. I gripped the keycard and stepped into the elevator. As the floor numbers ticked higher, my heart sank lower. When I reached the suite, the door wasn't fully closed. It was cracked open just a sliver. The voices inside spilled clearly into my ears. "Arthur baby, I just ran into this pathetic, broke woman downstairs, and she had the nerve to say my bag was fake!" It was the woman from downstairs, her voice dripping with sickly-sweet whining. Immediately after, I heard a voice that was etched into my very bones. "There, there, babe. Don't be mad." "That bottom-feeding trash doesn't know the first thing about luxury." "When I get the final payout for producing this short film tomorrow, I'll take you out to buy a real limited-edition one." Liam's voice oozed with an arrogant, superior swagger. I peeked through the crack in the door. Liam was wearing a suit that clearly didn't fit him, the cuffs still showing uncut, fraying threads. But he was sitting spread-eagle on the leather sofa, swirling a glass of red wine in his hand with dramatic flair. The woman was kneeling on the plush rug, eagerly massaging his legs. "You're the best, Arthur!" She cooed, leaning her head against his chest. "So, when are you going to divorce that ugly hag you have at home?" Liam's hand froze for a second. A flash of annoyance crossed his eyes. "Why are you bringing her up? You're ruining the mood." "She relies entirely on me to survive. She'd starve to death without me." "Once I finalize taking my company public, I'll throw some cash at her and make her disappear." I stood outside the door, listening to him shamelessly spin these psychotic lies. Relies on him to survive? His pathetic acting gigs didn't even pay enough to cover our electric bill. For the last ten years, every single expense in our house was paid for by the overtime shifts I worked until my eyes bled. I took a deep breath and violently shoved the door open. BANG! A massive crash echoed through the suite. The two people on the sofa froze instantly. The wine glass in Liam's hand jerked violently, spilling dark red wine all over his cheap suit pants. He whipped his head around. The moment he saw it was me, his pupils shrank to pinpricks. "You... what are you doing here?!" His voice was literally shaking. The woman was stunned, too. She looked at me, then looked at Liam. "Arthur, this is the broke bitch who bumped into me downstairs!" "How did she get in here?! The security in this hotel is garbage!" She stood up, pointing her finger right at my nose, screaming. Liam suddenly snapped out of his shock. He looked at the furious woman, then looked at me standing in the doorway, my face completely expressionless. A flash of pure panic crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a frantic, almost psychotic resolve. He shot up from the sofa, pointed at me, and roared aggressively. "Where the hell did this crazy stalker come from?!" "You actually followed me to my hotel room?!" I froze. Stalker? I stared at the man I had shared a bed with for ten years. I stared at his face, completely twisted by extreme, desperate vanity. "Liam, what did you just say?" "STAY BACK!" Liam bellowed. He didn't even dare look me in the eye. He just screamed toward the hallway. "SECURITY! WHERE THE HELL IS SECURITY?!" "GET THIS CRAZY BITCH OUT OF HERE!" The woman sneered coldly from the sidelines. "So she's just an obsessive, psychotic fan." "Take a look in the mirror before you act crazy. You actually had the nerve to break into Mr. Sterling's room?!" Several security guards came running down the hall. They aggressively grabbed my arms, one on each side. "Let go of me." I stared at Liam with eyes like ice. "Liam, are you absolutely sure you want to pretend you don't know me?" Liam clenched his jaw so tight the muscles in his face twitched. He turned his head away, refusing to look at me. "I have no idea who this crazy woman is!" "Get her out of here!"
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "401614", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel